Completely Incomplete
by SquishyTeddy
Summary: Well, Well, is this a Draco and Hermione fic? Maybe...Is this a Harry and Hermione fic? could be...It matters to you reviewing and, of course, reading. || No flames, please || Also...If you want to do Fan Art...All permission granted >D!
1. Wow is an Understament

  


Completely Incomplete  


  
Author's note: I made this up. Yes, I did. If you hate Draco and Hermione..or Harry and Hermione fics...back away from the fanfic and everyone stay calm. Please don't flame me. I haven't flamed you. R I D D L E is a good writer. Tell me if I should continue with this story, constructively. Well..I'm off...Ta!   
  
-------------------------  
  
"Mudblood!" Draco screamed at Hermione. Their stood facing each other in the hall. Her carmel eyes shoot daggers at him, yet avoiding his own ice-blue eyes. She was covered in raspberry jelly Draco had so kindly spilt on her for no good reason.  
  
"You aggnorant, self-righteous, prat!" Hermione face was half red with anger, the other, humiliation. She stalked towards Draco. Harry and Ron watched yelling preposterous things as "Chick fight" or "Cat Fight." Draco shot death-glares, keeping his ground.  
  
He wasn't about to back up from a girl, not much less a one with such low standards in his Father's family. Though, there was something different about this girl, something from the other's that stood out.   
  
Hermione kept her intrusion a foot. She appeared to be at least 2 inches shorter then Draco. She brought her hand back. Draco tried to move, but it was too late. The tiny slender hand left a red impact spot on his cheek. He staggered back.   
  
Crabbe and Goyal made there move forward looking as if they would squash Hermione for hurting their master/friend. On the other hand, Harry and Ron stood in front of Hermione. They were now much taller then her, and weren't half bad looking either.   
  
Draco stood with his goons at his sides. His orbs searching for something to weaken them by. He found nothing as he turned on his heel.  
  
"Crabbe, Goyal...Let's go...We'll deal with them later. See you on the corner, Granger" His ice cold voice penetrated her soul as if she fell into a pool of water in Antarctica. She tried to run after him, but, thankfully, Harry and Ron grabbed her waist and pulled her back.  
  
"Let me at him! I'm going to rip the bloody twit., limb from broken limb!" She screamed as she struggled to get away from Harry and Ron. Ron was furious, but knew better then to charge at Draco. Seeing Snape or Flich would get him. Harry kept his obvious anger below level, he would get him later. The quidditch match maybe? For hurting his beloved friend.  
  
Hermione continued yelling absurd things, that, were quite unlike herself to even mention as she was led to the Gryffindor common room, by the arms, which were still grasped by the two. She was finally set down in a chair, the boys sat next to her.  
  
"What has gotten into you, Hermione?" Ron turned to her sloped over a chair. Harry was next to her. Yet, his eyes were closed and his breathing was light.  
  
"Ron, can't you see she's inherited your ferociousness over the past six years. I think we all have borrowed our personality traits to one another over the years." Harry said. His deep voice was soft, like Dumbledore's. Hermione turned to look at him.  
  
"Well,..." Ron was stumped on what to say. Surely, he already knew he had the personality traits of them.  
  
"Talk to Cho, Harry?" Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. Her voice, not the same old bossiness as the first four years,but it had gotten sweeter and softer, of course, when she wasn't yelling.  
  
"Please, Hermi, don't mention her. She's going out with some Slytherin seventh year," Harry mimicked Cho, "Harry, You're to _young_ for me, I only date..older men."   
  
Ron busted out laughing. Hermione chuckled a bit. So did Harry, though, his eyes were still closed. Hermione smiled as Lavender strutted down the stairs in a mask. She heard her giggling and coming over to Ron, holding the mask up.  
  
"We finally found something that would suit you. You can wear it all the time." Lavender snorted. Ron flushed a deep crimson. He knew Lavender was , after all, the were going out, ginny said, yet the two never admitted it. The mask, however, flakiddingshed a different symbol in her mind. Hermione jolted up out of her chair, her smile would've lit the room, you know, if it wasn't for the candles.  
  
Harry looked out of the corner of his eye, worried," Hermione, are you okay?"   
  
"I just remembered something! It's in _Hogwarts: A History_..." Hermione smiled at the mask, and ran upstairs to retrieve her precious copy of the worn-out book.  
  
"Leave it to her, bringing up a book when she's excited," Ron snorted at Harry. Harry closed his eyes and blushed a tint of pink. Hermione stumbled down the stairs, her cat in one hand, her book in the other.   
  
"Ron, Crookshanks wants you." Hermione let the ginger cat jump out of her arms and watched it prance over to Ron, as it jumped into his lap.  
  
"Bloody Hell, all the women want me," He grinned, petting the cat around the ears, letting him purr.  
  
Harry chortled with glee, "Ron, Crookshanks is a male." Ron blushed scarlet. Hermione strolled back to her chair, as she sat down smiling.  
  
"I remembered something," She flipped through the pages. Most had ink spots on them of many different colors. Some even had drawings. She stopped on a page dotted in orange ink. "Whola! I knew it was happening this year! I knew it!"  
  
By this time, everyone started gathering around Hermione, Harry and Ron. Even though both of the boy constantly had girls hanging over them. Their were mumbles of "What is she doing?", "Look at her!". Hermione raised up on the chair.  
  
She began to read, "Every Century, by the light of a blue moon, hogmested celebrates it's 'man in the moon' masquerade ball to celebrate the Hogwarts unveiling in 125 AD. Some say this night brings forth soul-mates. Others say, death. No matter what the cause, That masquerade always bring a sense of thrill and excitement to the cautious wizard."  
  
The Gryffindor tower exploded with hollers and hoots from the upcoming dance. Everyone knew from Astronomy class, Tuesday night, the next blue moon was March 10th a week away. The girls were gibbering on what to wear. The boys on who to go with. Hermione sat alone. Her eyes quiet, reading her book. Harry's eyes were still closed, he wasn't going to talk. He wasn't going to say anything.  
  
"Hey Harry, do you want to go to bed?" Hermione asked him, not in the mood to sit alone.  
  
He nodded and opened his emerald orbs to look at Hermione then he glanced away. "I can't stand up...my legs ache." Hermione smiled and jumped up, holding her book under one arm, offering the other to Harry.  
  
"Well, come on, Harry. I don't have all night." Hermione smiled. Harry grabbed her arm and pulled himself up.  
"OW!" Harry grabbed his knee. He had obviously worn it out from running around all day.  
  
"Lean on me." Hermione whispered. Her voice was so soft and tranquil, it sounded like an angels. He did as he was told, and started limping with Hermione to the stairs. His eyes lowered watching her legs move and his stumble as they were walking up the stairs. They entered the door, walking quietly to Harry's bed, seeing Neville was already asleep.  
Harry climbed into bed.  
She grinned at him. "Hey Harry?"   
  
"Hmm..." He smiled at him, trying to get a hold of her orbs, but they kept bouncing around the room.  
  
"I need you to do a favor. Come to my room around eightish, tomorrow morning. I need your opinion on something" She smiled, closing her eyes for a while.  
  
"Okay, sounds wonderful, eightish, yah," His eyes closed as he supposedly drifted away to sleep.  
Hermione turned on her heal and walked towards the door. As soon as she got her hand on the handle. A voice rung the silent room, though it was only a whisper.  
  
"I love you," whispered Harry. She turned around to see who said that. Her eyes quiet and searching. She finally thought she *knew* she imagined it.  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Awaking to the giggles of Lavender and Parvarti is not always easy, but today, it was horrendous. She grabbed her watch and looked at it. It was 8, that means, the male voice she was hearing was Harry's and Ron's.  
  
"Oh Harry! That's so funny!" Parvarti said, pushing him on the chest as he walked to Hermione's bed. Lavender was hanging off of Ron, which was half asleep.  
"What's funny?" Harry asked.  
  
"That you came to ask me to the Masquerade. Your so sweet." She chuckled. Harry hit himself in the head.  
  
"I didn't ask you though, Parvarti." His voice was sincere.  
  
"But-But, Why are you here then?" Parv's lower lip trembled.  
  
"Hermi asked us to know our opinion on something," Harry placed his hand on Parv's shoulder as she sulked out of the common room, pulling Lavender with her. Harry pulled open Hermione's curtained bed, she had already fell back to sleep. Her curls sprawled out on the pillow.  
  
Harry smiled and thought to himself. _She's even beautiful when she sleeps.   
_   
Ron leaned against her bedpost, yawning: "Wake her up, Prince Charming," as he fell on Lavender's near by bed.  
  
Harry leaned over her, as he placed a hand on either side of her body. He smiled, moving a strand of hair out of her pale apricot colored face. She stirred having his warm hands so near to her face, yet she didn't awake.   
  
"Hey, Hermes." Harry shook the bed with his hands still on either side of her. Hermione yawned, smacking Harry upside the head with her hand.  
  
"Yeah, love you too..." He stood up and rubbed his head. Ron bursted out laughing.  
  
"My opinion is that Hermione has strong arms!" He jiggled and wiggled on Lavender's bed.  
  
"That's not what I want your opinion on. See, I've known about the masquerade for a long while and..um..I sorta already made my costume..." Hermione stuttered, getting out of bed. She kneeled down and crawled under bed. Ron bursted out laughing again, falling off the bed.  
  
"You could've asked Parvarti or Lavender." Suggested Harry.  
  
"Harry, if you haven't noticed. You two are my only friend..." She slipped out from under the bed, pushing a black box in front of her, "Could you go into another room so I can change?"  
  
She pushed on Harry's back to get out of her curtains as she shut them. Ron and Harry stood there, watching each other as they walked out of the dorm to the hall and stood there, getting smothered by girls.   
  
"Oh yes, Hermione, we'll stay out here and get molested so you can change." Ron mumbled as girls started to hang off him, "You have curtains, for cryin'' out loud!"  
  
"Give her a second, Ron. She's a fast dresser," Harry mumbled, sliding closer to the door.  
  
"How would you know?" He smirked and raised an eyebrow at Harry, as the door open, but no one was standing there. They hurried back in.  
Hermione stood in front of them. The box lying open on her bed. Harry's mouth dropped when he saw her. Ron closed Harry's mouth, himself, wide eyed.  
  
"You l-look like a girl..." Ron spitted out.  
  
"Yeah, well, obviously Ron, I am one." She said, swaying on her feet back and forth. The yellow dress she was wearing, had an embroidered blue flowers that trickled down both sides of the dress. The slit on the left side came up to her thigh and the flowers spliting into two arms covering the sides of the slit.  
  
Harry was speechless. Ron looked at the slit and the leg that showed from it. "You have legs!" Ron yelled. Harry blinked.  
  
"So do you....Your point?" Hermione stood there casually waiting their opinion. Harry's mouth dropped again as he saw the slit. He kept mumbling, trying to get words out.  
  
"Wow..." Harry finally said. His eyes raised to meet hers. They quickly looked away.  
  
"So, that's good right?"Hermione gestured. Both boys nodded.  
  
"You need a mask though," Ron pointed out. She turned around and reached into the box, pulling out a mask of yellow covered mask with silver trimming around the eyes.   
  
"This is the mask.." She said, throwing it back in the box. "Now..." she said taking a breath. "I must get changed into my robes." Harry stood there. Ron pulled on his collar trying to get him out.  
  
"Harry, Come on!" Ron continued to pull on his best friend. Harry turned out the door slowly as a curtain whoosh came from behind him. The handle of the door he grabbed, closing it softly behind him. Harry was utterly speechless tell lunch, when things started to go down hill...


	2. The Confrontation

  
Completely incomplete  
(part two)  
(The confrontation)  
  
Author's note: Lookie, Lookie, Second part done. Yes, I tried hard on it. I thought it went well. I hope you do too. Proofreading does wonders, I learned that from this experience D. I'm off too write the third part. Keep Voting! I'm not finished! This could be the first part of a Series. Like Draco Sinister. Well,...Ta! (read and review!)  
  
-----------------  
Hermione slowly made her way through the huge oak doors that were the entrance to the Great Hall. She was reading a book, again, as she walked in. The Gryffindor table welcomed her with glee. The Slytherin's with thier hateful glances at her as she sat down. She knew the Slytherin's hated her. Why should a muggle-born be the smartest witch? It wasn't fair to them.   
  
The only person that didn't look up at her presence at the Slytherin table was Draco. Who was trying to have a heavily, and what looked to be important conversation with Pansy Parkinson's who watched him one eye, glaring at Hermione with the other. Draco grabbed Pansy's puggish face and yanked it towards him. Pansy now giving him her full attention, nodding with wide eyes.  
  
Hermione didn't notice, in fact, she didn't notice the pats on her back from Ron or Harry, either. She just propped her book on the milk jug, she rightful claimed as hers. Her orbs registered the page into her already fact-cluttered mind. Ron was talking to Seamus and Lee with a rather intense chess play. Harry was staring longingly at the ceiling as he watched the sky's dark clouds pass slowly in and out of the frames of it's velveteen texture.  
  
Hermione glanced up at the presence of high heels clamping over to Harry. She pulled a strand of her corkscrewed hair out of her eyes and looked at Harry, who was still staring at the ceiling.  
  
"Why! Hello Harry!" Came the snotty voice of Cho Chang. Hermione could have swore every time she saw her, she was putting on a new coat of make-up. Harry glanced over at Cho, as did Hermione. The glare she received from Cho was an unbecoming glare meaning "Shove off."  
  
Hermione turned around slowly, she had stopped reading, yet continued to look like she was. Her head was slanted towards them to eavesdrop.  
  
"What do you want, Cho?" Harry's gaze was on the floor, which reflected Hermione's outline. He tried to sound sincere, it wasn't working, to say the least. Cho put her hands on her waist and thrusted her chest out.   
  
A gag came from Hermione. Harry smiled over to her. Cho glared, and continued talking.  
  
"I just wanted you to know. Me and Stan (A noise sounded from Hermione saying, "Stan and I") broke up. And I don't have a boyfriend," Cho said, winding a strand of her black hair around her finger.  
  
"And how is that my problem?" Harry said, monotone, looking at her twirl the tendril. He leaned back on the table. Hermione glanced at him, yet didn't catch his eyes. She knew from then on, he had fallen back into her web.  
  
"Well, I was wondering...if you'd like...you know...want to....be an item?" Cho said, smiling. Her lipstick plastered lips shined. Harry looked at her and smiled.  
  
"Sounds wonderful, Cho. They're happens to a masquerade on Saturday," Harry said, running a hand through his untidy hair. Cho smiled, maybe she would get laid on Saturday after all. She started off, waving at Harry, shaking her ass more then usual.   
  
He turned to Hermione, who glanced away quickly. Her eyes were looking at the Slytherin table, her mind wasn't there though.  
  
"Aren't you happy for me, Hermione?" Harry said, grinning at her head full of curls.  
  
"Oh yes, bloody happy," Hermione said haughtily. Why did she care if he was going out with Cho? She's just a slut anyway. But, she did care. She didn't want Harry hurt by someone like her.  
  
Harry touched her shoulder. She pulled away. Harry sighed and turned around. Why did he say yes to Cho? He loved Hermione, but...Cho was...different.   
  
Hermione stood up. "I'm going to the library," she turned quickly and headed out.   
  
Harry saw Draco get up, finally fed up with trying to have an intelligent conversation with Crabbe, or Goyal. Pansy was just gazing at Draco. An Idiot, He was surrounded by Idiots. Dumbledore stood up at the head of the Great Hall, gesturing everyone to be quiet.   
  
Draco just turned his back and walked out. Dumbledore gazed after him, his blue eyes twinkling at Draco's lean, well sculpted back. He knew something.  
  
He announced the upcoming ball in Hogmested. First years and up were allowed to go. His voice rang in the other girls ears, Cho smiled at Harry, waving her fingers and smirking. Ron rolled his eyes at the bit...er...blessed child of God named Cho. Lavender was going with Ron, they had it planned since last night.   
  
Harry closed his eyes. His eye lids quivered and he gulped down a lump in his throat. He continued to think why he said yes to Cho. If he only knew what was going on in the Library, he would've known he made a grave choice.  
  
--------------  
Draco trudged on to the library. No doubt, he figured, he'd run into Hermione. The stupid Mudblood was always in the library. What was it about the bloody girl that got draco so upset?   
  
He entered the library. Hermione was standing by the window, looking out the rain beating down on the window. Draco looked at her stuff on the table. What was she doing with a piece of parchment without a book? This girl seriously had problems, he thought. If she was doing work that wasn't needed or wanted.  
  
Draco grabbed his wand and was going to sneak up on her. A hair changing spell, maybe? He wasn't very careful, cause when he got closer to the window, his reflection showed.  
  
Hermione turned around and faced him, leaning back on the window's ledge. Her eyes were sincere and her face was red, with tears streaked on them. Draco put down his own weapon and looked at her.  
  
"What's you problem, Granger? Poor little potty-head do a spell on you again? Or is just that time of the month?" His icy breath chilled. Was he supposed to care? He was so glad no one followed him to the Library. But, then again, Slytherin's were hardly ever seen in the library.  
  
"Fuck off, you piece of pure-shit..." Her voice was dark, almost that of his fathers. Draco cringed a bit.   
  
"Roraw! Who twisted your titties?" Draco said, moving piece of fallen hair out of his blue eyes. Was he always this nieve?   
  
"Well, It sure as hell wasn't you," Hermione said, sitting down at her table. Her pools of carmel gazed the paper as she ran a hand through her curls.  
  
"Damn proud of it too, Who would want to touch a muggle born?" He tried his hardest to sound dark and evil, it didn't work. Deep down, it was hurting. Every word she said to him, the means ones, was cutting a hole in him. He sat down on the table, putting his feet on the table, leaning back on the chair's hind two legs.  
  
"What do you think your doing?" Her eyes looked up at him. She wasn't as tough as she was made out to be. She was just a girl anyway. All girls were vulnerable, quivering, helpless creatures with a yearning to be protected by a strong tough man, like himself. Or are they?  
  
"I'm sitting down," He moved his gray-blue eyes toward her. She was scribbling on her parchment. Was she drawing or writing? You could hardly tell, it was so large.  
  
"There are other chairs for you to sit down, move," Her eyes never looked up. Her bossiness was slightly showing, for she was angry.  
  
"Nah, I'll stay here. I like this chair," He said, running his hand through his white-ish blond hair.   
  
"I'll move then!" She glowered, gathering her stuff from around the table. Draco grabbed her moving wrist. She tried to yank away. "Let me go!" She hollered. It was a good thing Madame Pince was in the Great Hall, or Draco would be in trouble, with a capital T.  
  
"Sit down, Granger. I need Company, and your the lucky person to provide it," He smiled, his grip on her wrist lightened. Was she really this weak?  
  
"Hell no! Why don't you ask one of your goons or Pug face to keep you company? I have better things to do then waste my time with someone who's a complete bustard!" Hermione finally yanked her wrist away, pushing her things in her bag. Draco sat there, stunned. Had he really been called a bustard, by a girl? He was the *pick* of the sixth year anyway.  
  
She started to walk away, on Draco's side, since it was, in fact, closer to the door. Bad move, Hermione. Draco grabbed her by the robes, setting his chair on all fours so he couldn't be pushed back. He found this out when He was hitting on some hufflepuff ditz.  
  
Hermione stopped, looking straight ahead. Her book bag over one arm. Her other hand on Draco's arm. She didn't feel any good intention goosebumps, or any bad attentions. Draco contained his grip, standing up. His gaze was in an astonished look.  
  
"If you don't let go, I am going to hurt you..." Her gaze remained straight ahead. Draco was taller then her, as was stated before. A chortle of laughter came from the pit of Draco's stomach. He hurt her? On the contrary, He would hurt her if anyone was doing the hurting here. That's a lot of hurt, isn't it?  
  
"How? Hit me with your purse?" He laughed again, pulling her closer to him. "Call me a bustard again, I'll hurt you. That's a promise, not a threat," Draco said. Hermione blew on a piece of hair, that was hanging in front of her face.   
  
Draco pushed her away. The warm, sweet smelling breath of on his cold face was too much for him. His gaze watched her out of walk out of the library. Why do women walk like that? He asked himself. We're women naturally evil, without trying. Temptresses?   
  
He knew Pansy, or any other girl in the school would ever think of talking to him like that. How could she be so different from other girls? He thought he knew everything he could know about girls from his father. Apparently, the asshole forgot something. The heart of an independent women.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Potion's class

Completely Incomplete  
By: *Squishy*Teddy*  
Potion's class  


  
Author's note: I didn't proof read it. I'm tired, it's a school night. If you see any mistakes, I didn't mean them. I plan on like..five more parts..yah, five! Well, I'm off.. Ta!  
  
-------------  
The rest of the week went smoothly since the day everything went wrong. The school was gabbing and smirking in the Great Hall about the upcoming ball. The girls said they were going out tonight, after school, with the professors to one of the shops in Hogsmead. The boys were talking about Quidditch like usual. Everyone was psyched though, well, almost everyone.  
  
Hermione tried to block out everyone at the Gryffindor table. In fact, she hadn't talked in the past week. Harry's gaze was on her, was he worried? He could've been. Her eyes were deep in a book. She hadn't been ask to go to the Ball. All and all, it was a terrible week for the Ravenclaw of Gryffindor. But, was the upcoming dance affecting someone else?  
  
Draco Malfoy had been asked repeatedly by many girls, of many of the years, from all four houses to be his date to the Masquerade. He turned him down. Why you ask? He didn't want to. He might as well go by himself, or Pansy. Pansy was just a prop to him. A way out, an easy score. Really, she was just like talking to a brick wall.   
  
By now, only thing that mattered was who he danced with. Which was really impossible to know seeing they would all be under masks? For most of the girls in the school, he thought it was good. What a self-centered snot, huh?   
  
The Ravenclaw table exploded with a cheer that told there was only one more day last. Harry poked Hermione in the back. She looked up at him, a coil of hair hanging over her eyes.   
Her orbs of carmelly-goodness tried to show no resentment, but failed.  
  
"What do you want, Harry? I'm in a very interesting part of my book," She said, smoothly, trying not to sound hastily. Harry turned her book towards her. It was entitled "The Muggle screwdriver."  
  
"That's interesting?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"For you information, Mr. Potter. It is very educating and logical. I never knew a Phillips screwdriver could be so intriguing from a wizards point of view," Her tone was in her know-it-all type of matter. Harry reached forward to move the coil out of her eye, her hand responded with a quick, non-hurting-expecting-to-hurt slap.   
  
He put his arms down as he crossed them, "It's just a screwdriver!" his voice was hollow and hurt. His friend, a girl he loved, slapped his hand down. Why should she be mad? He was just going to the ball with Cho. She would've said no if he even asked her. Wouldm't've she?  
  
Hermione stood up, the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff table now looking at the two as if they were insane. This, though, did not stop the brown-eyed girl from bursting out, making the rest of the Great Hall looking at her. "And Cho is just a slut! but you don't see me complaining, do you?"  
  
She turned quickly on her toes and stormed out of the Great Hall before the professor's could stop her. Draco's face twinged a bit, revealing a hidden smile. Did that girl really have enough gull to come to Potion's class after the outburst?  
  
Potion's class rolled around soon after lunch. The Slytherin's were seated as the bell rang, as were the Gryffindor's, well, except Neville who was chasing his frog around the class room.  
  
Snape stormed into the room, from his office being off the dungeon class room. He looked at Neville as he slapped his wand against the blackboard. Neville, quite scared, jumped up and into his seat, looking rather terrified.  
  
"As you may know, Voldemort is back to power," Snape's dung beetle eyes were on Harry, "this calls for stronger ties to the School. You are the future generation of Voldemort's havoc, You may have to stop him. As of this, Headmaster Dumbledore calls in all classes a segregation of the houses. Yes, even the rivals of Gryffindor and Slytherin. All the Teachers have organized a seating chart," There were many moans and groans from both the Slytherin side and Gryffindor side.  
  
"Everyone, stand up, you are about to be matched with a new table partner," Snape said, as the class stood up moving around to the side walls, carrying their stuff. Draco kept mumbling to himself "Anyone but Hermione, anyone...please." Little did he know, Hermione was thinking inwardly the same thing. She didn't want to be with that bigheaded twit.  
  
"Potter, Parkinson!" He hit the table with his wand, as a groan sounded from both Harry and Pansy. This should be interesting, quite. They sat down at the first table. Pansy drumming her fingers and Harry, looking pleadingly at Ron.  
  
"Ron and Crabbe!" Snape's voice sounded again. Crabbe headed to the table, no moaning or complaining, while Ron was needing a little extra persuasion from Lavender, who was waving her hand ferociously.   
  
It went on and on, Neville and Goyle. Lavender and Millicent. Parvarti and the stinky boy in the corner no one talked to. Finally, the final two were left standing. Hermione and Draco. Granger raised her hand, while Draco blurted out.  
  
"I object! I don't want to work with her! She's so--" Snape waved him off and ignored Hermione's hand.  
  
"Sit down! We have a potion to do! Whether you like it or not, Mr. Malfoy. This is how it will be," Snape sounded at his favourite student. Hermione moved reluctantly to the table near the back of the room. Draco strolled down, sitting down. She sit down next to him, as a sorry look came from Harry and Ron.  
  
Snape began going on about the potion they were doing. Hermione, always prepared, had her quill and parchment out copying it down in a black ink which seemed to have a stream of red in it. Draco watched her intently, leaning forward. His listening skills have never been good, this class was no exception.   
  
When Snape was done, he turned to the class. "The ingredients you need are on the table. You may get started," He said, walking past Draco, patting his back.   
  
The muggle-born got up slowly, sulking to the table. Draco watched intently, his cold eyes watching the body of her reach and stretch for the ingredients. It was very (for lack of a better word) arousing.  
  
Pansy stopped at Draco as she passed him. She leaned on him, whispering in his ear. "So sorry, love. You got stuck with the Mudblood, maybe you can...curse her?" Draco straightened up at her touch. He hated her touch. It was so cold, so hateful. Much like his mother's and father's, much like..his.  
  
"Don't call me love," He mumbled with hatred, "I'm not with you, and with you're weight on my shoulders, their going to break," he said as Granger walked back with the potion ingredients, watching Pansy take aback.  
  
Pansy started walking again, mumbling to Hermione with a lust of disgust. "Watch it, Mudblood. He's mine, and he bites," she continued walking as Hermione raised and eyebrow, shivering. Her with Draco, that's beyond a miracle.  
  
"Chop the eye of newt into halves, add them. Or is that to hard for you?" Hermione sat down, taking the meat of chicken, pealing the skin off.  
  
"It's too hard, but I'll managed, Granger," he turned to the eye of newt, chopping it with the knife. Hermione's body shivered as she added the meat to cauldron, along with a Unicorn Hair, a blast-ended skewt scale, sending up the proper explosion of green smoke. She sat back down at the table.   
  
"Pass me the knife, please, Malfoy," She said hautighly.  
  
"Please? Why, Mudblood that's awful nice of you, but if you want it, get it yourself," Draco's voice was righteous, and bigheaded.  
  
"But, your closer! It's right next to you!" She hollered at Draco, causing Harry, Ron, Crabbe and Goyle to turn there attention on them. Snape sat plainly at the front of the class, totally oblivious, as her graded papers.  
  
"No," Draco said it blunt.  
  
"Fine," Hermione said, leaning over Draco. Her fingers slipped around the sharp knife blade, pulling it towards her. It took Draco tons of motivation, not to look at her, leaning over his lap. He was a teenaged boy, after all.  
  
She began to slice the last ingredient of the disintegration potion. Draco spotted red streaks crawl down her hand. Draco reached for her hand, absentmindedly, and pulled it away from the Poisson. Her warmth against his cold, felt good to both of them. Draco's eyes met her's. She quickly pulled away, gaining her *sanity*.  
  
"I was cutting, what's wrong?" She didn't even notice her hand. Her fact-cluttered mind felt distant as new thoughts filled it of love, love for another person, not just books. _Get a hold of yourself! He's Draco Malfoy! He's evil! He want's to kill Harry! He's trying to get you to tell secrets._ She considered herself right, but it felt so good when he touched her.  
  
"Your bleeding," Draco sounded concerned, but soon regained his resentful attitude, "I don't want you to poison the Poisson." She looked at her hand, while Malfoy watched her curls hang over your face.  
  
"Sorry." She stood up, walking to a sink in the room, washing her hands, getting the running blood off.  
  
Draco looked at his own hand, he saw Hermione's blood on it. It was a wonderful color. Different from his. He shook his head. _She's a Mudblood! You're going to be the right hand of Voldemort! You can't let this...girl get in your way. _He sighed, loving was out of the question, his fate was already decided by his own father. He didn't want to be a Death-Eater, he didn't want anything to do with Voldemort. He whipped his hand quickly on his pants, adding the Poisson as the bell rang.  
  
"A roll of parchment of the uses for disintegrating potion. You are dismissed!" Snape yelled from his desk. Everyone scuttled out, but Draco. He was deep in thought. Ron, Harry and Hermione were the last to leave. Though, Harry and Hermione weren't talking.  
  
"What's his problem?" Ron asked Hermione. She looked away.  
  
"No Idea, we better get to diner," She continued to look at the wall, not paying attention to them as she headed out. Ron and Harry walked behind her, talking about Quidditch.  
  
-----------  
After Diner, most of the girls headed out to Hogsmead. She was the only one who stayed back. _Might as well go to the Library_. She mumbled and headed through the cold, drafty halls to the library.   
  
She set her stuff down at the table, heading to for a book. She had already finished her homework for the week. She scanned for a book she hadn't read, stopping on one with a cover of burgundy fabric. She didn't notice through the peek holes of the shelf, she was being watched by intense gray eyes. Eyes that belonged to only him, only Draco Malfoy.  
  
She pulled on the book, walking around the shelf and write into him, dropping her book and falling back.  
  
"Watch it, Mudblood!" He yelled at her. She looked up at him, rolling her eyes. Picking up the book, she headed towards her table. Her hand slipped into her book bag, pulling out her bronzed framed glasses, and sliding them on.  
  
First years shuffled into the Library and sat down. Draco sat at a rounded table in the back of the library, watching her. He was thinking again, wonders never seize to they?   
  
She could feel the cold eyes burrowing into her back. She got to her feet and turned around to face him, placing her hand on her hips.  
  
"What? Do you want to make fun of me? Take your best shot, I've heard it all before," She pronounced as her Carmel eyes intensified.  
  
"I was just thinking. And you haven't heard it all, I have a million more up my sleeve," He said, sliding back into his chair, watching her get mad.  
  
"Screw you, Ferret-boy. You know you could actually do something good with your peanut-sized brain instead of making insults," She crossed her arms, turning around.  
  
"So that's a Yes." Draco sounded, looking at the slanting ceiling. Though, she stayed turned around.  
  
"A Yes to what?" She blinked, had he even asked a question?  
  
"That you're going to the Masquerade with me," He smiled at her back, she began walking, grabbing her book bag.  
  
"No," She ran a hand through her hair as Madame Prince checked out her book, walking out of the library. She heard Draco's feet walk behind her.  
  
"So it's a no," he answered, catching up with her.  
  
"No," She turned a corner, smiling that she was actually being followed, or even asked to do anything since Viktor Krum. Draco grabbed her shoulders and pushed her into a crevice of the wall.  
  
"Well, what is it then, Mudblood," He was getting fed up with her little game, his aggravated personality returning. Hermione brought a hand to his face, slapping him. He took aback, looking at her. Her warmth was so nice. His coldness was likewise to her. "What was that for?"  
  
"Don't call me a Mudblood, and it's a maybe, twit," She began to say.  
  
"Ouu, one day, granger, you're going to get what's coming to," Draco announced. "And what is maybe supposed to mean?!"  
  
"It means, I'm going to the ball by myself. If I run into you, I might take into consideration with dancing with you," She smiled, cockily. She was actually trying to piss him off, and he was enjoying it. She began to walk, Draco stayed where he was, yelling down the hall.  
  
"Then I'll see you at the masquerade!"   
  
"Whatever!" she didn't even turn around, for if she did, she'd be blushing a shade of crimson. This would be a very interesting dance, very interesting.  



End file.
